


We Hold It In The Most When We're Wearing Thin

by JaciSerigala



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Aftermath of Misgendering, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Misgendering, Non-binary character, Tumblr: FTLGBTales, Tumblr: ZerefSerigala, ftlgbtpride2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:28:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24513121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaciSerigala/pseuds/JaciSerigala
Summary: Anxiety and a challenging evening leaves Rogue at a loss with themself, unsure whether the hassle of pronouns is really worth all the stares and judgement.
Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Freed Justine
Comments: 6
Kudos: 10
Collections: I Take Pride in What I Am 2020





	We Hold It In The Most When We're Wearing Thin

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from 'Hurricane' by Fleurie.  
> A massive, massive thank you to @splendidlyimperfect whose insight into issues surrounding gender and pronouns was incredibly helpful to make sure that this fic isn't accidentally harmful, as well as @blackrose2016 for reading over the fic.   
> Thank you both!

Rogue hadn’t been able to breathe since they stepped into the guild hall.

It wasn’t just the stench of the sickly-sweet pastries, or the sound of the mages who were all just a bit too loud, though. Everything was loud and too warm and the room smelt like a sickly form of cheese. They knew that Freed could see their struggle, but he was the only reason they hadn’t immediately turned around and walked back out.

That excitement in their partner’s face was endearing and so sweet and Rogue didn’t want to ruin that. So they sucked it up, and up, and up… until they couldn’t feel their trembling fingers anymore. They could only smile and wave, trying to speak around the ball of anxiety lodged in their throat that only ever grew, never shrank.

‘He’ was floating all around them, fuelling the anxiety and making the trembling that much more prominent.

_“I’m not a boy.”_

They tried to say feebly, but their voice was lost to the music, and the other kept going on and on and on.

It stung. The ache only grew and Rogue couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only watch as the anxiety took hold.

And still, none of it hurt half as bad as when Freed reappeared at their side and led them out of the hall.

They had failed.

The streets all blurred into one and the journey home was only punctuated by the grounding feeling of Freed’s arm around their back and the streetlights that were too bright and too warm.

Their apartment was dark and Rogue sighed, letting their element surround them. They were home, and as they relaxed, fatigue began to set in. Still, they couldn’t bring themself to let it go before- 

“I’m sorry.” Rogue muttered, letting Freed settle them down on the sofa and press a glass of water into their hands.

“No… I’m sorry.” Freed sighed, deflating. Rogue couldn’t help the grimace that swam through their body, and their lips instinctively moved around the words ‘it’s not your fault, it’s mine’, but Freed didn’t let him get there. “Can I touch you?” It was a request, gentle and accepting.

His answer came when Rogue slumped against him, their face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, yearning for Freed to take away the pain and replace it with love.

“I’m so sorry, Rogue, I shouldn’t have dragged you along… I knew you weren’t feeling well, but-”

“You were so happy.” Rogue muttered, swallowing back the tears as they pictured the glittering eyes, the excited smile, the way his hands clenched so adorably at the chance to see his old team again. Freed was so perfect, Rogue wished with all their being, that they could match that encompassing warmth and beauty, but their head ached with the effort to just _make it through an evening._

“But-”

“I know you miss Fairy Tail, I would never keep you from seeing them.” They pressed on, reaching out behind Freed to put the glass of water on the table, they captured their lover in their embrace, with a kiss to the side of his neck.

“I do… but you mean just as much to me, as them, and your mental health is more important than a party.” Freed sighed, melting a little.

Rogue silently cursed themself, not sure that they’d ever be able to believe that. His mental health over Freed’s family? No… that didn’t sound right.

Their panic came and went, never leaving completely, until half an hour later, they were halfheartedly watching an episode of some show Rogue didn’t particularly care for.

“Are you okay?”

It took a moment for Rogue to realise that Freed had said something. They looked over, opened their mouth and closed it again. _Were_ they okay?

“I don’t know…” They admitted, their eyes flicked away from Freed’s gaze, locking on the ornamental tea set that Levy had bought as a house-warming gift, to the cork-board filled with messages from Freed’s old team, to the tearing curtains that Rogue had been meaning to fix for months now. They looked anywhere but at Freed.

“That’s okay, do you want to talk about it?” Freed asked, reaching over, he nudged his fingers between Rogue’s.

“It’s just-...” Rogue cut themselves off, wincing as they realised that their anxiety had never actually settled. “... It’s just a lot.”

A piece of hair was tucked behind Rogue’s ear, brushing over their cheek, and it was all they could do to keep themselves from crying.

“Maybe… maybe it isn’t worth it…” They muttered finally, tension radiated throughout their body, leaving them frozen, unable to pull away or press in closer, whilst the aches and pains began to crash down.

“What are you-” Freed began.

“I mean the pronouns.” Rogue whispered. It hurt, it always hurt to watch that flicker of annoyance pass over people’s faces when they corrected them again, and again. Every sneer, roll of the eyes, every pause at Rogue’s request drove daggers into their heart that they didn’t know how to remove yet.

“Ro-”

“It’s not _really_ a big deal, it’s not worth-”

“Sweetheart…” Flinching back, Rogue hid their face in their arms. They were losing grip on their emotions and Freed knew it and there was nothing they could do to stop this crash. “You’re always worth it.”

“They kept saying he, they wouldn’t- I-... I’m not a boy!” Any other time, Rogue would shudder at the raw desperation in their voice, but not tonight. Somewhere beyond the mist, they knew that Freed was here, he always was, and the week had just been _so_ long, that they didn’t have the energy to hold it in anymore.

“You’re right, you’re not, they all should’ve respected that,” Freed whispered, and when his arms wrapped around Rogue, there was nothing they could do except collapse against his chest. Everything was just so loud, but Freed was safe.

“I’m not a boy, I’m not a ‘he’, I’m…”

“Don’t say broken.” He sounded so sad, and it cut through Rogue, deep enough to almost reach the tight ball of sadness. Almost. “You’re not broken.”

“Then what am I?”

“You’re Rogue, you’re the person I love most in the world.” Freed said it so simply, like it was so obvious, and Rogue expected it to make the ball inside constrict. Then it loosens instead and they finally pull in the deep breath they’ve been searching for all night.

“But they-”

“They were wrong.” He keeps going. “Who you are inside is the one that matters, and no one can take away how brave and kind and thoughtful you are. You’re a gift, Darling. And who you are is so important. You don’t have to be simple or binary for others, all you need to be is yourself, and I love the person you are.”

There were so many words trapped behind their lips, apologies and thank you’s and I love you’s, but none of them made it out before the tears began to fall and rip sobs out.

“Everything about you is worth loving and protecting and understanding, and there are so many people who would go to the end of the world for you, and none of us think you’re a boy or a he or anything other than Rogue Cheney, the Shadow Dragon Slayer who loves cats and marshmallows.” 

The puff of laughter felt ugly in contrast with the tears, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care.

“You bring so much joy to every day of my life, Rogue, and whilst I can’t promise everyone will be what you deserve, I can promise that I will always give you all of me.”

They just lay there and let Freed tug their darkness into the light and love it all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it has been a WHILE since I uploaded a story and even longer since I have actually written something! I've been in a very deep funk with my writing and various attempts to get writing to be fun again have failed. I've felt oddly motivated to make something for #ftlgbtpride2020 but who knows if that will stick. I might upload again, I might not, we'll just have to see.  
> Thank you for reading and have a nice day!


End file.
